"I beg your pardon if I've said the wrong thing. I meant no harm," he
apologized warmly. "But I get left-handed and tongue-tied, I guess, when
it comes to being civilized--where there's a lady in the case. It must
have been I said it the wrong way, for, I _do_ know the thing itself would
be right. You want to go. You've lost your money. And I expect your bank
wouldn't send it on a telegram. They mostly won't. That means waiting
days, perhaps. So I thought----"
"It would mean waiting," she broke into his pause. "My bank is a long way
off. You're very kind, and I _will_ borrow the money, if it won't
inconvenience you, on condition that--you let me give you security."
"That would hurt my feelings badly," said he; "but I'd rather you'd do it
than not take the money, because your convenience is a heap more important
than my feelings."
"If I go I can get money in a few days, and wire it back to you here,"
Angela reflected aloud, at a loss how to treat the situation when it
became a question of hurting Mr. Hilliard's feelings.
Nick's face fell. "I--unless you give me your orders--I don't want to stay
here very long," said he. "I don't care when I get the money back."
"Why, you've only just arrived, haven't you?"
"Ye-es.
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